


Crash and Burn

by youjik33



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-18 23:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youjik33/pseuds/youjik33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke thought he could handle loving an apostate. When that apostate is also bent on changing the world by any means necessary, well, maybe things are going to be a little more complicated than he'd ever imagined...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

Hawke slept late that day, much later than usual. When he woke sunlight was streaming through his windows and he just lay there for a while, enjoying those sleepy moments when his mind was still empty and all that he had to think about were the things surrounding him: the warm blanket on top of him, the slice of blue sky he could just barely see out the high window, the weight of his dog against his back. When he finally did sit up all his problems came rushing back at once, because his bedmate, much to his surprise, was not his dog at all. It was Anders.

Hawke had barely seen Anders over the past several days, since that awful confrontation where Anders had lied to him to get Hawke to help him... do what? He still didn't know. He felt like he didn't know anything any more, and that uncertainty had settled somewhere in the bottom of his stomach to churn unless he could manage to distract himself.

Anders was lying on his side on top of the blanket, wearing only a pair of gray cotton trousers, hair loose around his face. For the briefest moment Hawke thought he was asleep, but suddenly his eyes flicked opened and he sat up, meeting Hawke's confused gaze.

"What... are you doing here?" Hawke asked after a moment. That look Anders was giving him scared him, somehow, but he couldn't place why because he couldn't decide what it meant. It was like Anders was trying to stare into him, or through him.

"Cavendish," he said finally, hand coming up to cup Hawke's cheek, thumb rubbing against his jawline in an achingly familiar gesture. "I know I have no right, after... what I did, but...Cav, if I could just ask for one favor..."

"Anything," Hawke said, the word coming easily and naturally to his lips.

"Fuck me." The words, whispered against Hawke's ear, were accompanied by warm, moist breath, and Hawke felt himself stirring.

"That's..." he said, as Anders' chest pressed flush against his, and lips latched onto the side of his neck. "I don't really see how that's doing _you_ a favor..."

"Please," Anders breathed, and there was something low and desperate in his voice. "I want you inside me."

There was definitely something off about this situation, just as there had been something off about everything these past few days, but Anders was straddling Hawke's lap, their erections bumping together through several layers of cloth, so instead of trying to analyze it Hawke just said "The oil, in the nightstand-"

Within moments Hawke was naked and leaning back against the headboard, watching Anders' face as the other man worked two oil-slicked fingers into himself. Then he was climbing into Hawke's lap again, one hand bracing himself against Hawke's shoulder while the other circled the base of Hawke's cock, lining them up.

"Are you sure-" Hawke began, but then the tightness of Anders' body was closing around him and he lost the words. Anders' breath escaped in a long hiss near Hawke's ear, and Hawke managed to pull himself together long enough to ask, "Does it hurt?"

"No," he gasped. "No, it's wonderful."

They rocked their bodies together, Anders riding him in long, hard strokes, Hawke's fingers digging into his hips. He murmured the Maker's name against Anders' shoulder, feeling the tension build, ready to uncoil.

"Anders," he said when he knew he couldn't stand it any longer, "I'm going to come."

Anders smiled at him, the most effortless and genuine smile Hawke had seen on his face in a long time. Maybe it was the smile that pushed him over the edge, because Hawke found himself shaking with the force of his orgasm, still buried deep inside Anders' body. Anders' arms tightened around Hawke's shoulders, and a trickle of warmth spread between their bodies from Anders' own release.

They clung to each other, panting, before Anders lifted himself off of Hawke and threw himself face-first against the mattress.

"What was that all about?" Hawke asked after he'd caught his breath.

Anders pushed himself up onto his knees. That mysterious guarded look had crept back into his eyes, and he brushed strands of sweaty hair back from Hawke's face with his fingertips. He stared at Hawke for so long Hawke finally had to look away.

Then he slipped out of bed, reaching for his discarded clothing. The transition was so abrupt Hawke was at a loss for a few moments. "Wait," he said as Anders pulled his robe and jacket on – that strange black clothing he had suddenly taken to wearing, the color stark and melancholy and just wrong. "You're leaving?"

"Yes."

"You don't have to go."

"Yes, I do," he said.

"Dammit, Anders!" Hawke spat, climbing out of bed after him, not caring that he was still naked. "Why won't you just talk to me for once?" His hand caught Anders' wrist and the other man whirled. For the briefest instant Hawke thought he saw a glimmer of blue in Anders' eyes, but he squeezed them shut, and when he opened them again they were their usual golden brown.

He leaned close and brushed his lips against Hawke's forehead. "I love you, Cavendish Hawke," he murmured. "As much as I don't deserve to."

Then he had turned away, heading for the bedroom door.

"I love you too, you idiot," Hawke said, but it was too late; he was gone.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set immediately after the final battle. An emotionally exhausted Hawke has to face the consequences of his lover's actions.

“Did I do the right thing, Varric?” Cavendish asked, leaning against the hall outside his bedroom door. Inside, Anders slept, exhausted from the fight and from keeping all of them alive.

“Hawke,” the dwarf replied, “I don't even know if there was a right thing.” Hawke smiled despite himself as Varric continued. “You stood up for the man you love – who could blame you for that?”

“I spared a terrorist who murdered the Grand Cleric.”

“Well, that too. It's all in how you want to spin it. Personally I'd stick with my version.”

Hawke closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, letting the wall support him. Somewhere downstairs he could hear the murmuring of voices as the others discussed the situation. “I can't believe you all followed me,” Hawke murmured. “Even Fenris. I was sure he'd storm off and I'd see him as a general in Sebastian's hypothetical army.”

“Maybe he just likes you more than he hates mages.”

“That's... rather terrifying. I'm not really that charismatic, am I?”

“You are, Hawke,” Varric chuckled. “Champion of Kirkwall, remember? I would've thought you'd be used to all the adulation by now.”

“I doubt I'll ever be used to it. But... thank you, Varric. Talking to you always makes me feel a little better, somehow.”

“Talking's what I'm all about,” Varric said. “But I'm glad I could help. Now I'm going to go raid your wine cellar. We could all do with a drink or two. Or ten.”

Hawke turned to Interceptor, who was sprawled in front of the door, licking matted blood from between his toes. “I'm going to talk to Bethany. Let me know if Anders needs anything, all right, boy?”

“...you could have asked me,” Varric called in mock irritation from somewhere near the stairs.

“He follows orders better,” Hawke replied.

-

Bethany stood alone in their mother's room. There was such a quiet, thoughtful air about her that at first Cavendish wasn't sure he should disturb her, but then she turned to face him, and her tired eyes lit up. He crossed the room and pulled his sister into a tight hug.

“I wish she were here,” Bethany murmured into his shoulder.

“I do too,” he said with a sigh. Orana kept the abandoned room dusted; it looked as though Leandra Hawke had simply stepped out for a moment. Even after three years her absence still hurt.

“Oh, Cav,” Bethany said, squeezing his shoulders. “I'm so sorry. I did blame you, at first, and that wasn't fair at all.”

“It's all right,” Cavendish said, letting her go gently. “I wish you could have lived here with us. It's not fair that we never got to be a family here, like you wanted.”

“Yes,” Bethany said tentatively. “That's... that's why he did it, you know. Life in the Circle, it wasn't always terrible, but I should have been here with you and Mother. It's not... it's not fair!” For a moment she seemed on the verge of tears, but she pulled herself together. “Thank you for... for doing what you could. I can't even begin to imagine what's going to happen next, but I'm glad we're together again.”

“So am I.” He hugged her again. “I wish you had your own room here. You can claim whichever guest room you'd like, though.”

“I think I'll stay here, if it's all the same to you. And maybe I'll find Father's old staff.”

“That thing?” Cavendish couldn't hide his surprise. “It's in the cellar, I think. I thought you hated it. You used to always go on about how weird it was that he'd carved that naked woman at the top.”

“Well, it _is_ weird, there's no denying that. But I think I'd like to carry it. I think... if he were still alive, I think he'd be happy right now.”  
“I hope so.”

“Anyway, maybe I can sand her breasts a little smaller.”

Laughing felt good; Hawke felt the heaviness that had settled in his chest recently loosen just a bit.

“If you'd rather,” Bethany added, a hint of hesitation in her voice, “you could give it to Anders. I wouldn't mind.”

“I'm not sure he'd want to carry around that naked woman carving either,” Hawke said lightly, but in truth, the idea of handing a family treasure over to his lover was strangely exciting. Still, excitement was one thing his life certainly wouldn't be lacking any time soon.

“I'm glad you found someone, Brother,” Bethany said. “Though I'm sure Mother was disappointed she couldn't marry you off to some noble family.”

“Not that disappointed,” Hawke replied. “Though I think she would have liked to have entertained the prospect of grandchildren. Still, she couldn't very well get angry with me for falling for an apostate. And on that note...” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I should go see how he's doing.”

-

Interceptor, as it turned out, had abandoned his post. The bedroom door had been pushed slightly ajar and the dog was sprawled on the bed at Anders' side. Maybe, Hawke mused as he regarded them, he would have been better off leaving Varric in charge after all.

The mage had thrown himself fully clothed on top of the blankets, not even bothering to remove his boots. His robes were dusty and tattered, and many of the feathers of his pauldrons were missing or broken; he looked like some kind of storm-tossed bird. It was hard to fathom that Hawke had woken to him here only that morning.

He shooed Interceptor out of the room in a whisper, but Anders stirred and rolled over all the same.

“I'm sorry,” Hawke murmured, settling onto the edge of the bed. “I didn't mean to wake you.”

“You didn't, really,” Anders insisted, sitting up and pushing hair out of his eyes. “I was just dozing. I feel better already.”

“You must have been exhausted. I hope Fenris realizes that you saved his life.”

Anders chuckled. “What Fenris realizes, I'm sure, is that if it weren't for me there wouldn't have been any Templars shooting arrows at his throat in the first place.”

Hawke reached for Anders' hand, running his thumb across the bones of his wrists. They were so prominent; how had he not noticed earlier? “You've lost weight, haven't you?”

Anders gave him a sheepish smile. “I haven't been eating very well lately.”

Of course he hadn't. He hadn't expected to live through the day. There was a part of Hawke that was furious that Anders could have ever imagined that Hawke would be willing to kill him. Those few moments, when the Chantry still smoldered and Hawke found Anders' fate on his shoulders while Anders just sat there, so calm and resigned, not even turning to look at him – those were very possibly the worsts moments of Hawke's life.

Mostly, though, he just felt sad. It was a deep, aching sadness without any focus, and in an effort to suppress it Hawke put his arm around Anders' shoulders and pulled him close, hoping he would understand that Hawke would never let him go. Anders' fingers gripped the front of Hawke's shirt.

“Please don't leave me again,” Hawke said.

“I'll try.” Anders' voice shook, as if he were trying to fight off tears. “I feel... more like myself than I have in a long time. But... I don't know if I can promise...”

“I understand.” Hawke closed his eyes, focusing on the weight of the body in his arms, warm and human and real. “I suppose this will never be easy.”

“What ever is?” Anders said, and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out... differently than I'd planned. I struggled over where to start it out for quite a while before ultimately deciding there wasn't really any need to recap the end of the game, since I imagine most people reading this will already know what happened.
> 
> There should be one part to go.


	3. Chapter 3

They made love on sagging mattresses in cheap inns, in stables and haylofts. When the weather was fine they lay together on the grass, unconcerned with anyone who might see them. They tried it up against a tree once, laughed together when Hawke got sap in his hair.

Tonight, with the rain tapping its patterns against the roof of the tent, their bodies move under the heavy blanket. At moments like these, with Interceptor keeping his faithful watch outside, Anders becomes Hawke's whole world. The taste of sweat, from where he mouths at the junction of Anders' neck and shoulder, the sound of Anders' panting breaths near his ear, the heavy smell of sex, the feel of Anders' shoulderblades under Hawke's hands and the slow, sweet friction of his cock as it thrusts deep into Hawke's body; for now that is everything.

It's been months since Hawke has seen a flash of blue in his lover's eyes.

When they're finished, he turns and puts his arms around Anders, pressing his forehead against his lover's shoulder and just holding on.

Sometimes Hawke likes to imagine what might happen if they could forget everything else. They could live in a cabin somewhere, secluded from the rest of civilization – just the two of them, and Interceptor, and a whole mess of cats. They would have a little garden, and Hawke's sword would sit neglected in a corner somewhere, and Anders would use his magic mostly for amusement or to light the fire at night.

But there are things that can't be fought with a sword. The darkspawn taint still flows through his lover's veins. Even if they somehow manage to avoid bandits, beasts, and templars, they might be able to hold onto twenty more years together at best. Chances are they'll never even get that chance. They hear the whispered news when they trade for supplies – the mages are starting to fight back. And Hawke knows that until all the mages are free, Anders will never be wholly his.

The strangest thing is that Hawke is all right with that. Anders' devotion to his cause is one of the things Hawke loves most about him. It always has been. And as much as Hawke has tended to think of Justice as an outsider, in truth, he never knew Anders before their merge. Maybe he's always loved both of them.

Some day, Hawke knows, Anders and that mysterious angry spirit in his head will decide it's time to stop running and start fighting again. But for now, he can lie in his lover's body heat and listen to their hearts beat together. For now they can let their guard down; for now they can sleep soundly.

There are things Hawke can't fight. But for now, he'll keep himself between Anders and the rest of the world as best he can.

**Author's Note:**

> Away back in the early 2000s I quite liked a cheesy pop song called Crash and Burn by Savage Garden. More recently I rediscovered it and found the lyrics more interesting than I remembered. He's basically acknowledging that the person he's talking to has problems that he can't do anything about, but is willing to be there to help them pull themselves together and get back on their feet.
> 
> It kind of reminded me of a certain obsessed mage I have recently grown to love.
> 
> I'm not sure how many parts this will end up being; I don't have any epic storylines planned, but I wanted to examine Anders and Cavendish's relationship during and after endgame events. Part 2 will feature an explosion and shit hitting the fan; part 3 the aftermath. From there, who knows.


End file.
